


31 flavours

by phinnia



Category: House, M.D. - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-23
Updated: 2007-10-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 09:42:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phinnia/pseuds/phinnia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N:  <a href="http://www.breathpalette.com/index.asp?PageAction=Custom&ID=2">Breath Palette</a> really does exist, I swear.</p></blockquote>





	31 flavours

As much as he hated House teasing him about being the _girl_ , Wilson had reconciled himself to the fact that certain things would always ... be. No matter what form their sleeping arrangements took, House was still House and only kept track of details when it suited him: he might be able to call up the intimate details of Cuddy's menstrual cycle without a second thought (why that was was something Wilson set aside for another time, because he also had a day job) but if left to his own devices he'd get scurvy from too much Chinese takeout and let the dishes stew until they discovered faster-than-light travel in his sink. So he was the one that cleaned the fridge, made half-hearted attempts at balanced meals, and bought toilet paper, and if that meant he was the girl, well ... then that was what it meant.

Which was why the appearance of the tube was so pecular. He may not have had House's keen observational skills, but he hadn't spent so much time around the man without _something_ rubbing off (even before there was literally something rubbing off) and it was in an obvious spot, right next to the toothbrush cup. A plain white tube labelled with the number 10 - which Wilson didn't remember buying.

Well, it was either toothpaste or some kind of sample from one of the fellowship candidates, and since the latter gave him chills to think about, he decided to go with the former and squeezed some on his toothbrush.

Looked like toothpaste. Wilson shrugged and put the brush in his mouth.

There was a long pause; he peered at the startled eyes of his own reflection for a moment, poked a tongue into his distended cheek, and then spat into the sink. "House!"

Half-awake mumble. "What?"

"What the hell is this stuff?" Wilson picked up the offending tube between two fingers and strode into the bedroom, dangling it over House's head.

Two blue eyes and the end of a nose peered out from under the duvet. "I'd say toothpaste, but I don't know for sure what the PC term is today, I'll have to check."

"It tastes like -"

"Cafe au lait, yeah."

"What?"

A yawn. "You're the one that said try new things."

"Cafe au _lait_? Toothpaste?"

"Bought it off Amazon. If you don't like it, get one of the other ones. They're under the sink." He disappeared under the duvet again.

"Other ones?" A faint, gnawing unease started to chew holes in his stomach lining. He opened the cupboard door by using the handle of House's toothbrush.

And stared. There were at least two dozen tubes, all white, labelled solely by number. "Is there some kind of legend to this?"

No answer. Wilson rinsed his toothbrush in hot water and tried another, spitting it out immediately. "What the hell is number fourteen? That's worse than the first one."

"Curry, I think."

Wilson let his head drop backwards onto the cool tiled wall.

He was _so_ going to be late to work.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: [Breath Palette](http://www.breathpalette.com/index.asp?PageAction=Custom&ID=2) really does exist, I swear.


End file.
